Illuminate the Abyss
by b-mystique
Summary: "I asked you to save me," he whispered quietly. She met his eyes again and she swore she could see a watery sheen but he tore his eyes away. An overwhelming sadness weighed her down as she seen a flicker of desperation behind his green orbs. "I will," she replied firmly. "I don't think you can." Post Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Olake friendship.


_**A/N:** "Kiss, Kiss, Bang Bang was a truly devastating episode. It left me breathless in so many ways. I'm a Jake fan and I like the Olake friendship/friends with benefits sort of bond that they have for different reasons than my liking of the Fitz/Olitz thin. So this is Jake friendly. _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Scandal or any of its characters. I do own a pretty badass white peacoat though, so that's something. :) Unbetaed. Reviews welcome._

~o~

The keys shook in her hand as Olivia stood outside his apartment. She exhaled, held her head high, and steeled herself for whatever would be behind the door the moment she opened it. She located the correct key and this time avoided scratching the keyhole in her effort to unlock the door. She pushed it open with a flourish, gliding in confidently and opened her mouth to say something but was struck by the intense darkness and the overpowering smell of stale beer. She closed the door and stepped further into the apartment, her clutch dangling from the crook of her arm and her flats noiseless against the wooden floor.

She stopped abruptly and her purse fell to the floor with a thud when she heard the familiar click of a firearm. Her heart pounded as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, fear constricting her so much she could only let out a silent scream. She didn't know what she expected when she came over here, after all it had been weeks, but oddly enough the prospect of having a firearm directed at her didn't seem to cross her mind, despite the veiled threat he left her with when they last parted. She turned around slowly to face him her eyes wide and her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"My Sun," he laughed harshly. He sat on the kitchen floor pressed up against the stainless steel refrigerator. He lowered his gun and stared in her general direction unseeing, before taking a swig of beer from one of the dozen beer bottles scattered beside him. "I didn't expect to see you.

She stared in horror at his appearance. The moonlight casting through the window gave her just enough light to see his week old scruff and the dark circles beneath his eyes. He seemed frailer and pale, not nearly as bad as the day he collapsed at her doorstep, but still not the Jake she was accustomed to. He continued to stare off as if he were staring through her, as if part of him still hadn't registered that she was really there. He took another swig of his beer before resting his forearm on his knee and leaning his back against the refrigerator door.

"Jake," she whispered. Her resolve was gone, and the fear, anger, and hatred that had consumed her when she thought of him was drowning in the concern that she felt for him now as everything her father said to her echoed in the back of her mind.

"I didn't expect to see you," he replied coldly. His voice was so unbelievably despondent that she could barely recognize it. She could barely recognize _him_. He seemed empty and distant, two things that she never experienced with him before. She wondered if that was why it was so easy for her to forget who he was and what he did for a living. He never appeared damaged like Huck or carefree like Charlie. He seemed…normal.

But normal conflicted with the pictures she seen of her friend lying cold and dead in an alley. Normal didn't make it feel any easier watching her mentor and friend have an emotional breakdown in front of the press. Normal couldn't help her look her goddaughter in the eye. She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat and busied herself with retrieving her purse and setting it on the island. She couldn't bring herself to face him as she fought back tears at the mere thought of James and sweet baby Ella.

"You're wearing all white," he noted. "You're not feeling conflicted."

When she faced him this time he was finally looking directly at her. The light, the humor, the sparkle that she typically found in his eyes was gone. He looked tired and worn down as if he hadn't slept in days. He seemed a bit crazed too, if his demeanor and the tone of his voice was any indicator. She sized him up for a long moment a shiver coming over her as he stared into her eyes void of emotion.

"You're wearing grey," she nodded at his dark grey cardigan. "That means there's still hope."

"Hope," he laughed again with no humor and the sound of it cut through her. "You haven't been paying attention Liv. I'm Command now, there is no…there is no _hope._" His mouth twisted around the word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he remained as stoic as ever.

"There's always hope," she said evenly as she stood across from him.

She slid down the island until she was sitting on the floor facing him eye to eye. She wanted to tell him more. That she'd figure something out, that she would dismantle the abomination that was B6-13 and that she'd set them free. Huck, and her father, Quinn, and him. She'd set him free. Part of her felt like she owed him that. He saved her more times than she could keep up with and he filled this void in her life that she hadn't realized that she was missing. He was her friend. She hadn't really felt the gravitas of having a real and true friend who snuck past all her defenses in a really long time. At least not since Stephen. She'd find a way to free him before there was nothing left to piece together of the broken person she saw in front of her. She couldn't absolve him of his sins but she could maybe keep him from ever having to commit anymore.

"You look at me like I'm a monster," he said quietly. "You look at me as if I'm something else you can fix." He finished off the rest of his bottle and threw it across the room, ignoring Olivia's flinch when it shattered into hundreds of pieces.

She ached to reach across and touch him, maybe hold his hand or stroke his face, or slap him. She wasn't even sure which she'd do first, but instead she found herself clutching the lapels of her white trench coat tighter around her neck. She glanced up at the sky as if willing some higher force to give her the wherewithal to deal with the chaos and insanity around her. He didn't make a sound but she could feel the iciness of his glare as he studied her face. It made her shudder.

"Eleven," he said his voice monotone. "And I'm not talking about the amount of times I watched my father hit my mother, truthfully I lost count of that after a while." He ignored the way she sucked in her breath and the glassy sheen to her eyes.

"Eleven is the amount of people I've killed. Not total, of course not, because there was my time prior to my promotion and I was in the military too. No, eleven is the amount of people that I've killed since being Command," he continued. He appeared stoic but there was bitterness in his voice that betrayed him, that gave her a glimmer of hope that he really was still in there.

"I didn't take their killings lightly. I made the decisions after giving it much thought and concluding that there was no other choice," he continued. "I knew everything about them, inside and out, and I killed them. I'm not just responsible for giving the orders to kill them but I actually killed them myself. I killed them myself and I prayed that they wouldn't be like James. I prayed that it could be quick, clean, and efficient…painless you know?" he posed it as a question but he didn't appear to expect an answer. His eyes bored through hers and as disgusted as she felt she couldn't bring herself to turn away.

"I knew that if any of them had to be like James, than I'd have to sit beside that person, and hold their hand, and say sorry. I'd have to wait there with them until they took their last breath, because no one should have to die alone. No one should have to be alone…" he rubbed at his jaw, never breaking eye contact with her.

"I prayed that none of them would have to be like him, and fortunately most of them weren't. I prayed, I don't know why but I did. But God doesn't hear me. God stopped listening to me a long time ago," he noted indifferently.

"J-Jake," Olivia rasped as she took him in with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to say more but the vacant look in his eye deterred her. She wasn't certain if he was blatantly ignoring her or if he wasn't even aware he was sharing so much with her to begin with.

"I used to be a Boy Scout," he went on. "I'd participate in anything if it meant I could get out of the house," he chuckled lowly as if recalling memories she wasn't privy too. "I joined the Navy to get away too. I thought I could escape home. Run away and never have to return. Especially after my sister died. I was supposed to have a normal life. I was determined to make a life that was far from my childhood as possible," he paused and furrowed his brow as if remembering something. "I wanted a family, a wife, 2.5 kids, a cabin, and a dog…."

The rain that suddenly pitter pattered against the roof and window made Olivia jump, as she was jarred out of the hypnosis that was his story telling. He didn't so much as flinch. He barely blinked as his light eyes burned into hers.

"Fitzgerald Grant shot down that plane but he was the governor's son. He had a political destiny. There were people with hopes and dreams for him. He was the elite. I was a nobody. My hopes and dreams didn't matter._ I_ didn't matter. I was just some poor kid from nowhereseville Indiana whom no one would miss and no one would care about," he seemed unaffected by the words he said but she wondered how deeply wounded he was that he actually said them.

"I was just some cast off with nothing to my name. Fitz shot down that plane, but I was a candidate they could take. So they dragged me to Wonderland, and put a gun to my head, and made me sign my life away because as far as they were concerned I didn't have one and never would. Maybe I should have said no that day. They would have killed me of course, but maybe I should have said no anyway," he mused.

"I do wonder if it's always been my destiny to be Fitz's replacement. To play second fiddle. I say I refuse to be that guy but somehow I always end up being him anyway," he pondered. "My whole life has been to serve this country, and Fitz, and the republic and I didn't ask for…" he broke off and for the first time since she got there he seemed as though he was actually feeling something rather than being this distant stranger. "I didn't ask for any of it."

She let out a shaky breath and couldn't control the stray tear that cascaded down her cheek. She turned from him and wiped it quickly, sniffling back any other tears that threatened to come out. She felt his gaze burning through her and beckoning her to return it. She did so reluctantly because suddenly facing him was even more difficult than she could imagine, for reasons that were apart from her overall disgust and anger she harbored against him for killing someone she cared for. But the man in front of her was someone she cared for too, and somehow hearing his story, the account of his life and the summation of these feelings that he was suppressing, all as if he were coldheartedly narrating the story of a stranger tore her up inside. She inhaled and exhaled heavily, trying to keep a sudden bout of anxiety at bay.

"I asked you to save me," he whispered quietly. She met his eyes again and she swore she could see a watery sheen but he avoided hers and sought out another bottle of beer on the floor.

She crawled towards him, resting her hand on his as she lowered the bottle from his lips and shook her head emphatically. Their eyes locked on one another and an overwhelming sadness weighed her down as she seen a flicker of desperation behind his green orbs. "I will," she replied firmly. The intensity of her glare was willing him to trust and believe in her.

He covered her hand with his and brought both up to his cheek. He closed his eyes reveling in the temporary warmth and softness that her hand provided, and she shivered at how cool his skin felt against her palm. She reached up to stroke his hair but he broke away from her and was up on his feet in a flash. He crossed the room in a few strides and when he faced her again it was as if a wall that he built had suddenly gone up again.

"I don't think you can," he said bitterly. His eyes were icy again as he looked over her once before strolling into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

She sighed, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and looked around her helplessly as she tried to figure out what her next move would be. She wasn't sure if she could save him either, but she sure as hell was going to try.

~o~


End file.
